"DiNozzo, David, cover the back. McGee, with me." Gibbs ordered his team as the sound of a chain fence being opened caused them to withdraw their weapons. They were apprehending a criminal, which they had done a thousand times. This time, though, Ziva felt a sickness in her stomach. This was one of the few Sundays the team had to work, but a case needed their assistance. Taking down a member of a prominent drug cartel meant everyone needed to be present. She knew she couldn't call in sick just because she hadn't been able to sleep without having nightmares. Her team needed her, and she knew she couldn't let them down. No sign of distraction was acceptable. Besides, Ziva could hide her emotions like a pro, even if ,at times, she wanted someone to ask if everything was alright. Like now.
Through thinking about all of her problems, she'd become distracted. Her train of though was jerked back on its track when DiNozzo called to her from the top of the porch stairs, "Ziva, behind you!" Upon instinct, she turned. Ziva had the full intention of fighting the man behind her, but she froze there, standing on the ground with her gun pointed at the man. Her thoughts reverted back to her nightmares. It was the same. The chain, the angry look on his face…
"Ziva what are you doing? SHOOT HIM!" DiNozzo yelled again. She focused. Right as he was about to swing the chain at her head, she grabbed it with one of her arms and threw it. The guy was temporarily dazed, but it didn't last long. He tried to run, and Ziva didn't chase him. DiNozzo yelled again, only Ziva couldn't make out what he said. She stood there, her gun steady as he ran.
Bang.
Tony ran toward her, but she didn't even move. She stood there in the exact same position. Gibbs and McGee could be heard running.
"What the hell was that? He could have whacked your noggin clean off, Ziva!" Although Tony was pretty much yelling, it was out of worry. He knew Ziva wasn't distracted, ever. She wouldn't admit it now, but something was wrong. He intended to find out what it was. Presently, though, he focused on the gun in his partner's hand and the particularly pained expression on her face. Tony's eyes moved to the gun. Her grip was firm, and she was shaking. To try to calm her, Tony rested his hand on top of Ziva's. Thankfully, she eased up. Her face was almost drained of emotion. He was now concerned.
"Ziva?" Tony's words came out a question, but he intended on a statement. There was a difference there, and Ziva knew it. If it had been said more like a statement, he would more than likely only be telling her to put the gun down. But he had said it as a question, and made it sound like he knew she wasn't with it. He knew something was wrong, and Ziva could tell.
Later that night, Ziva was lying in her bed still unable to sleep. The clock read eight fifteen. She took a double take. It was only eight fifteen? Suddenly she wished she'd spent more time finishing her case report. There was no way she could just sit there until morning.
Reluctantly, Ziva got up and walked into the kitchen. The refrigerator was full, but nothing looked appetizing. She had baked several dishes for her teammates, but tonight she couldn't find the courage to fix any of them for herself. She was just too drained. It was a good thing she had bought TV dinners a while ago, although she didn't remember why.
"Beef stew it is." She muttered.
While her dinner cooked in the microwave, Ziva hunted her pantry for some wine. If she was lucky, she'd find vodka. A bottle of champagne would be nice, too. But none were to be found. No alcohol at all. A trip to a liquor store was definitely on the agenda.
Once again disappointed, she settled for regular old Mountain Dew.
At the exact same time the microwave beeped, her phone rang. She had a feeling Gibbs needed them back at the squad room, which, for her, was good. It meant she didn't have to stay up all night avoiding slumber. But she was wrong. Surprisingly, it was Tony.
"Hello?" She answered.
"Hey, did I wake you?" He asked.
"No, but I wish you had."
"Why?"
"I just have not been sleeping. Why did you call?"
"Why haven't you been sleeping?"
"Tony. Why did you call?"
"Right. Well, I was wondering if you would want to go out for drinks with me."
"Now?"
"Well you're not sleeping." Obviously.
"Good point… Alright I will go, but on one condition."
"Which is?" Tony sounded oddly confident.
"You have to pick me up."
"Look outside, David." At that, he hung up. Ziva was speechless. He was parked right across the street and sitting on the hood of his car. He knew her that well.
